SOUTH BEND, Ind. -- All afternoon, the only thing that hung in their way was the scoreboard. They were clobbering the national champions, hurting them, leaving them dizzy. Michigan State had Notre Dame breathless and confused; the Spartans had them every which way but beaten. The scoreboard. The damn scoreboard. If only they could pound that thing, tackle it, knock it silly until it coughed up some points the way the Fighting Irish had been coughing up the football.
Can I tell you something about the NFL draft? It starts early. Can I tell you something about the NHL playoffs? They end late. So only a complete fool would try to cover the latter in Canada and the former in the United States within an eight-hour span, right? Only an absolute idiot?Hey. I had a plan.
CHAMPAIGN, Ill. -- There were four seconds left; the score was tied and Andy Moeller, blood smeared across his uniform, was rocking back and forth on his feet, just trying to time his leap.A piece. That's all he wanted. Just a piece of the football. He knew this field goal try by Illinois would be the last play of the game.A piece. Just a piece.The crowd of 76,000 sucked in its breath. Everything was riding on the kick. For Illinois. For Michigan. And for Andy Moeller and his father, Gary -- the Wolverines' defensive coordinator -- who had ties to both.
Adrian Dantley came spinning out of yet another basket, a beautiful fast break, and he got the foul, the crowd went wild, and he whirled toward the Detroit bench on bended knee, made a fist, and ooooh, ooooh, was he actually going to . . . smile? Well. Almost. What do you want? Miracles? A smile from Master Scowl was the only thing missing in this grab bag of gestures that was Detroit's 122-104 playoff win at the Silverdome.
CHAMPAIGN, Ill. -- Jeff George, the Illinois quarterback, fidgeted with his helmet strap. This was his time, wasn't it? The final seven minutes. He was the miracle man, the can-do kid. He does more with a football in the closing minutes than some teams do all afternoon. Hands on hips. Look up. Look down. It was his time.
LAKELAND, Fla. -- Forget the dateline. This has nothing to do with baseball or Florida. It has to do with the Winter Olympics, which ended nearly two weeks ago. It's something I would like to get off my chest.
First let me say that Isiah Thomas is quick and smart and warm and funny and an extremely talented basketball player who deserves everything he gets. So I am not surprised his face is on the front of Coke cans, and that he has just signed with a local TV station.It is the path of success: Isiah Thomas, the man. Isiah Thomas, the TV star. Isiah Thomas, the endorsement spokesman.Isiah Thomas, the horse.The horse?
Listen, Los Angeles. Hello? Excuse me? Los Ang----QUIET ON THE SET!I figured that would get your attention. Sorry to disturb the morning cappuccino, kids. But I have come from the Motor City to pass on a message that dates back to the Bible (you remember the Bible, don't you? Charlton Heston? Lots of sand?). When God made heaven and earth, He looked it over, leaned back, and said: "Nice job, Big Fella." And he left it alone.Get the message?Not everything has to be done twice.
Mitch Albom writes about running an orphanage in impoverished Port-au-Prince, Haiti, his kids, their hardships, laughs and challenges, and the life lessons he’s learned there every day.
